The Mafia and his Angel

Prologue

Alessio  

       

    “We’ve got a problem,” a harsh voice said through the phone. It was my second in command.   

    “I’m coming,” I told him. I didn’t like his tone. I could tell it was something really bad. His nervousness made me nervous. Viktor was a crazy bastard, and if something had him this riled up, then it was something big. Something I really wouldn’t like.  

    I walked out of my office and found a few of my men standing in the hallway, lined up and on guard. They bowed their heads in respect as I walked by.  

    As I stepped into the dark hallway that led to the soundproof basement, my body tensed. The air around me was stale and my steps were hard against the silence as I prepared myself for the worst.  

    When I opened the door, I saw Viktor leaning against the wall, his head cast down in defeat. My entrance didn’t even faze him, he was so lost in his own thoughts. I cleared my throat and he glanced up.  

    His expression conveyed horror and disgust. “It’s bad,” Viktor said, pointing toward the room. I nodded, then walked farther inside, leading the way while Viktor fell into step behind me.  

    Stomping forward, I found a bloodied man strapped to a chair. The basement room was empty except for the chair in the middle and a table at the back. Four of my men stood around him. They were my right-hand men.  

    I didn’t recognize the captive, but when he looked up at me, his eyes were filled with terror. As I got closer, his already pale face twisted in pain. He pushed back against the chair when I stopped in front of him.  

    “What the fuck is going on?” My voice boomed around the room. I didn’t take my eyes off the man, but when I saw him flinch, satisfaction coursed through my body. The fucker better be petrified.  

    Viktor walked around me to stand behind the man. He grabbed the captive’s hair and pulled hard until his neck snapped back painfully. The man screamed and thrashed.  

    I lifted my eyes from the battered captive to meet Viktor’s disgusted gaze.  

    “The fucker betrayed us. I heard him talking. The fucking Italians. He’s working for them,” Viktor growled.  

    I looked down at the man and his eyes were closed. He refused to look at me. The anger that took over my body was indescribable. He fucking betrayed me. Me. The. Fucking. King. The person who owned his life.  

    Nobody betrayed me and got away with it. I trusted all my men. They were my family, but when one of my own betrayed me, they paid the ultimate price. Death. Very painful death.  

    Taking a deep breath and schooling my features, I stepped away from the strapped man.  

    “Bring me a chair,” I yelled. I saw one of my men scrambling back, doing as I commanded.  

    “Here you go, Boss,” Phoenix said a minute later. He placed the chair behind me and slowly stepped away.  

    I sat down and faced the motherfucker. He opened his eyes and stared directly at me. My temper flared. Leaning forward, I snarled into his face. “Why?”  

    His body shook in fear but he refused to answer. I looked up and signaled Viktor. He let the man go and walked toward the table at the back of the room, only to come back with a cutter in his hand.  

    I smiled almost maliciously and leaned back against the chair, crossing my arms over my chest.  

    “Enjoy,” I said, nodding at Viktor.  

    As he got to work, the man’s screams filled the room. Blood dripped all over the floor, but I kept my gaze fixed on him the whole time. When he started to lose consciousness, I raised my hand. Viktor instantly stopped his torturous ministrations.  

    Leaning forward again, I asked, “Why and who?”  

    I laughed when he glared at me. Viktor leaned forward and punched him. “Show respect.”  

    “I will ask one last time. Why and who?” I said menacingly as I took his face in my hand. My fingers pressed hard into his cheek until blood oozed badly from his wounds.  

    When he still wouldn’t answer, I let his face go and stood up, pushing my chair away. I wasn’t going to get my hands dirty this time. But the man strapped against the chair in front of me forced my hand. The rest of my men needed to see me kill. They needed to see the consequences of betraying me.   

    They needed to see the worst of me. How brutal I could be. It appeared they had forgotten.  

    I was feared by all and nobody fucking betrayed me.   

    Walking toward the table, I picked up the pliers. As I turned, all the men took a step back. Viktor smiled sadistically and shook his head. “Fuck, yeah. Now you’re talking.”  

    Viktor held the captive’s head against the chair. I stood in front of him and roughly grabbed his chin, not caring if I hurt him. I forced his mouth open and held the pliers to his teeth.  

    The man tried to scream, but I never gave him a chance. It took me hours to be satisfied.  

    And when I was done, he was no longer breathing.  

    May this be a lesson learned.  

       

    ***  

       

    Ayla  

       

    Run, keep running, I told myself.  

    Escaping wasn’t easy. I had planned it for years but never found the courage to actually do it.   

    But tonight I had to escape from the nightmare I’d been born into.   

    My father never cared. It didn’t matter that I begged him to listen. He always turned a blind eye. My father only cared about his profits. After all, he was the Boss. The Italians, the Famiglia respected him. He was the feared leader.   

    And I was just a pawn in the cruel game.   

    I had no choice, no will. No respect. No love.   

    I had nothing.   

    My engagement to my father’s second in command hadn’t been my choice either. After all, what choice did I have at sixteen?   

    At twenty-three, after all the years of torture I went through by Alberto’s hands, I decided to escape. For years, I wished my father would put a stop to the violence against me, but it never happened. Alberto did whatever he wanted with me.   

    I was just a toy for pleasure and for pain.  

    After he left me bloodied and beaten up from yet another torturous night, I crawled out of the bed and climbed out the window. No matter how much I thought of it and planned for my escape, it wasn’t easy. Nothing was ever easy.  

    But I still ran for my life.   

    Whatever was left of my sanity depended on it.   

    “Stop!”  

    I heard yelling behind me, snapping me out of my thoughts.   

    “No. No. No,” I gasped, panting. I was almost off the property, my legs burning as I ran.   

    Run, keep running.  

    I just needed time, but the men were closing in on me.  

    “Miss Ayla. Stop. Stop,” I heard one of them yelling behind me.  

    Shuffling deeper into the forest, I forced myself to move quicker. I pushed hard, running until my body felt like it was breaking. I was already bleeding badly.   

    Everything hurt, but I kept going. Only my escape mattered.  

    I kept running into the darkness until the screams of the men faded away. When I couldn’t hear them anymore, I stopped and leaned against a tree.  

    My safety wasn’t guaranteed yet, but I had to rest. My heart was pounding and my legs were shaking too hard for me to continue.  

    But when I heard a noise to my left, my eyes widened and I pushed myself from the tree, taking a few steps away. The sounds got louder.  

    Without sparing another glance in that direction, I turned away and started running again, praying that I would find someone who could help me. There must be a good person left in this cruel world.  

    When dawn approached, I was too tired to keep going. I was no longer in the forest, but at the side of a deserted road. I knew my father’s estate was on the outskirts of New York City. He’d said something about one day ruling the whole city. But for now, it belonged to someone else. Someone more powerful than him.   

    Limping along the side of road, I continued until I came across houses.  

    A sigh of relief escaped my lips. I was safe. Someone would help me.   

    I walked over to one of the houses and knocked softly at the door. An old woman opened the door and gasped at the sight of me. Before I could say anything, she slammed the door in my face.  

    My eyes widened and I stared at the closed door in shock. What?   

    My fist came up to knock again, but I saw something else from the corner of my eye.   

    Alberto’s men. They were walking around, looking for me.   

    With my heart in my throat, I quickly hid behind the house. As I tried to figure out my next plan, lights flared around the corner. I looked to my left and saw a black vehicle slowing to a stop.  

    I stood still as a large man stepped out of the car. He was wearing a black suit, similar to what Alberto and my father wore. I couldn’t see him well, the darkness hiding his face. He went inside one of the houses.  

    Looking back at the car, I made up my mind. After making sure that Alberto’s men were not looking, I quickly walked away from my hiding spot and ran toward the car. I pulled on the handle of the back door.   

    The door opened. Tears of relief blinded my vision and I hiccupped back a sob.   

    I looked on either side of me, making sure nobody saw me. My path was clear when I climbed into the car and closed the door behind me.   

    My body folded into itself as I crouched down between the seats, trying to make myself as invisible as possible. My eyes closed as I tried to calm my breathing.  

    After a few minutes, the door opened and the man sat down. I jumped slightly when he slammed the door shut. My stomach twisted in knots as my breathing slowed. My hands shook in fear.  

    I heard some shuffling noises and then he started talking. “Viktor, I’m coming home. Get everything prepared.”  

    My body was strung tight with tension but when the car suddenly lurched forward and the man began driving, I let out a sigh of relief.  

    I was safe. For now. And that was all that mattered.